Under Pretenses
by Alias Russie Neontuhr
Summary: Anything could happen to anyone in Gotham City. Main Target: Nightwing. Main Caller: Batman. But with everyone not being who they seem, things might get a little tricky.


**A/N: I might have to stop in the middle of my story, and updates might be irregular—but R &R! When I'm done with a chapter, etc., I'll put End of … but otherwise I'm not done!**

 _ **UNDER PRETENSES**_

 _Part 1: Mission Catastrophe_

Nightwing was beat after an unfinished mission that left the teen's spirit sore and low. He drove to Bruce's manor and rung the bell.

Alfred opened up. "Ah, Bruce would be happy to see you."

 _Right_ , Nightwing thought darkly as he trudged down the hallway to the parlor. Nightwing knew he himself should be happy, but it was hard after such a disappointing day and seeing Bruce again after such short notice made Nightwing feel more tired and depressed.

As Nightwing pushed open the door, he hesitated. Things never seemed to go too well now between him and Bruce. But Nightwing wouldn't just give up; he had to face the man who had rescued him from a miserable life. Even then, it was hard.

Bruce looked up from sipping his tea. "Hello, Nightwing," he finally said evenly.

 _Happy to see me_ , Nightwing thought bitterly.

Nightwing sat down.

"You finished your mission, right?" Bruce's rough voice was cautious.

Nightwing snorted. "No."

When he looked up, Bruce's face had an almost comical expression on it that Nightwing couldn't place.

"No? Well, why not?"

Nightwing glared at Bruce angrily. "I can't tell you!"

Bruce's voice was quiet, dangerous. "Why not? I'm the mission leader. I should—"

"This is a different mission. And plus you're _not_ the leader. Remember?"

An icy silence stretched between them.

Bruce put down his tea. "You didn't tell me about _another_ mission."

Nightwing stood up angrily. "I don't have to tell you anything! You're not my father!" The implications of what he'd said didn't hit him until Bruce's face shot an arrow through his heart. But Nightwing had a little Batman going on. He didn't take it back.

Bruce stood up, his posture almost threatening. It seemed as if his face had been sculpted from marble.

"I need to know every mission you take on," Bruce said coldly, stepping towards Nightwing closer and closer with every word. "I do it so I can _protect_ you!"

"I don't need _protection_!" Nightwing snapped.

"Do you even know who the person who gave you the mission is?" Bruce demanded.

"He's trustworthy," Nightwing growled.

"How would you know? If whoever it is knows your identity and he's not one of us, he could very well be playing you! Are you listening to me?!"

But Nightwing had had enough. Once Bruce attacked the ever-constant topic of Nightwing's judgement, nothing could get past the barrier he set up around him.

"I know him better than I know _you_! I trust him!" Nightwing yelled.

Bruce realized he couldn't get Nightwing's attention with words alone. In a flash, Bruce had grabbed Nightwing's arm and firmly pulled him close to his face.

Through gritted teeth, Bruce hissed, "Listen to me, Nightwing!"

Nothing could get to Nightwing. His fierce blue eyes glared holes at Bruce and defiance made his body tense.

Hurt and feeling betrayed, Nightwing ripped his arm out of Bruce's hands. Years of training had hardened Nightwing, and he was no longer that boy he used to be.

"Leave me _alone_!" NIghtwing took off down the hallway. Bruce ran after him, calling his name angrily. Bruce reached the door and looked out, but there was no Nightwing in sight. Finally, the events of the night caught up with him and he leaned heavily against the doorframe. Nothing could touch Batman, nothing, but somehow Nightwing managed to bring out a whole array of muffled emotions through Bruce.

Hurt and confused for the second time in his life, Bruce turned and went back in, his footsteps slow and reluctant. Bruce couldn't deny it any longer. Along the way, sometime, Bruce had developed affections for the boy that he'd trained to become his sidekick.

 _Maybe I should just let him go_ , Bruce thought wearily. So caught up was he in his dejected thoughts that he almost forgot. What _was_ Nightwing's mission about? And who was leading him?

But Batman also had his pride. _Leave me alone!_ Bruce clenched his jaw and went to his bedroom. Nightwing was right. Maybe Bruce really needed to let him go for once. Maybe forever. Nightwing wasn't his son.

And he wasn't Nightwing's father.

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Nightwing drove along the road into Gotham City. He zipped through the alleys and came to a screeching halt in front of an old, worn-down building. Nightwing slammed the car door as he got out, then knocked once, and rapped 3 times more on the door.

A man in his early twenties with sharp, pale-blue eyes opened the door.

"Nightwing!" he exclaimed, a glint in his eyes. He opened the door wider. "Come on in."

"Thanks, Card," Nightwing replied stiffly.

As Nightwing followed the man through the winding corridors, he stared at the black T-shirt and ragged brown hair.

 _Card's not dangerous_ , Nightwing scoffed, thinking gloomily of Bruce. _He's a man who knows Gotham City by heart._

And _how_ he knew Nightwing never had time to contemplate as Card led him into a small office area that was crammed with dozens of computers.

"See that?" Card said, pointing at a monitor that portrayed a shadowy courtyard.

Nightwing bent down, peering at it. "Well," Nightwing finally said, straightening, "You led us on a merry goose chase that proved fruitless. Where's the criminal this times? Under the grass?"

"Funny," Card said dryly. "No, but he walked through here and left something there. Mind to go get it?"

Nightwing was more reluctant this time. "I've got to get back to my team soon—"

"Nah," Card protested. "They'll be fine. I've got something to do, too. After you get that thing he left, don't meet me back here. Meet me at the warehouse at King's cross-section."

"Why?" Without even realizing it, Bruce's comments _had_ gotten under Nightwing's skin.

"I think this place is being monitored somehow," Card answered vaguely.

Nightwing didn't have time to question him. The door closed in his face.

NIghtwing grudgingly made it to the Harley Electronics building's courtyard. He didn't find anything.

Nightwing stood there for a long while, staring off into space. He wasn't thinking about Card. He was thinking about Bruce. The guilt was finally getting to him. Nightwing hated lying and he _had_ been lying. Bruce _was_ his father and Nightwing _did_ trust him.

He needed to tell Bruce that.

 _Screw Card_ , Ngihtwing thought. Funny, because it seemed like Card was playing the game here.

Nightwing, however, had more pressing matters at hand to deal with.

Determined, he marched off to his car. He needed to go back to Bruce's manor and apologize. Apologizing didn't come easily to Nightwing, a former protégé of Batman.

But a mission's a mission, and Nightwing would see it through.

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Bruce woke up and looked at the digital clock on his table. 8:03. Bruce sighed, laying back down, eyes open in the near darkness.

Bruce hadn't really expected to sleep. He was too worried. A habit is hard to break, and being the father for 11 years was no exception.

Bruce got up and dressed in his casual clothes. He went down underground to the Batcave, sinking in his chair as he activated up his computer. After some fruitless searching, an icon popped up on his screen in the form of an ace playing card. Bruce only hesitated for a split-second before clicking on it.

At first, Bruce couldn't comprehend. The shabby building seemed to be filling his vision as the camera zoomed through to show Nightwing, groaning and injured, on the floor of the building. Bruce was already gone, off to save Nightwing, when Card's face filled the screen with a sneer.

His plan was coming along well.

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Nightwing knew something was wrong when he drove up to the manor. There was a quiet stillness int e air as he got out and rang the bll.

Alfred's face didn't ease Nightwing's suspicions.

"Bruce isn't here."

Nightwing froze. Bad thoughts ran through his head. Could Bruce really be on a mission. Nightwing glanced at the twilight sky. It had been a while before Nightwing had thought of Batman's mission times, but if he remembered right, it was usually between the hours of midnight and 4 o'clock. That couldn't be it. No one would call Batman that Nightwing didn't know of. Then Nightwing thought of Card and felt guilty. The only reason for Batman's unexpected disappearance was something Nightwing refused to face. The notion scared Nightwing more than anything ever could.

"NIghtwing?"

Alfred's hesitant voice brought Nightwing out of his reverie. Anyone could see the dawning panic in Nightwing's sky-blue eyes.

"I—I have to go," NIghtwing suddenly said, hard decisiveness evident in his voice. He swept around and ran to his car. Time was crucial now.

Batman was in trouble.

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Batman, out-decked in his full, subtle glory, parked the batmobile near the shabby old building in the middle of Gotham City's criminal community. Cautiously, he made his way into the building. Nothing happened, but Batman didn't relax. He couldn't hear Nightwing, but he wouldn't stop looking. Long minuted passed, but Batman couldn't find Nightwing in any of the connecting rooms.

Then Batman saw a glow from one of the rooms. But when he neared it, the slightest whine in the air was the only thing that warned Batman of the swinging blade that nearly chopped off half of his cape. Batman sprang past another contraption, then whirled around, avoiding an automatic dart gun from a gap in the walls. Batman dove with uncanny precision into the computer room. Al the monitors showed all the rooms in the building.

Nightwing wasn't there.

In his peripheral vision, Batman saw a glimpse of brown hair trying to sneak past. The man, seeing that Batman had spotted him, took off at a run. Fuming, Batman ran after him, dodging traps as he ran. The man dodged the first batarang that zipped towards him, and then they were stumbling into the alley ways. Something Batman didn't see until it was late tripped him, and when he looked up, the criminal had disappeared around the corner.

Cursing silently, Batman ran after him.

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Nightwing got out of his car and ran to the shack building, assuming that Card was still there. Although Nightwing hated to ask anyone for help, especially at age 19, he had to admit that he worried enough for Batman that he would sacrifice pride to save him.

In fact, as Nightwing neared the corner of an alley intersection, a sweaty Card barreled around and ran into Nightwing. As Nightwing was the stronger one, he didn't fall, but Card did.

"You okay?" Nightwing asked, giving him a hand. To his puzzled surprise, Card didn't take it. He sprang back up, a move worth of Nightwing himself, a mad gleam in his cool gaze.

Without a word, Card ran off. For a moment, Nightwing stared after Card but then thoughts of Batman injured, or worse, dead, made him run around the corner to use Card's headquarters for its every surveillance of Gotham even though having Card help him would've been nice.

BAM! And this time Nightwing fell down as he collided into something. Nightwing looked up and his mouth fell open. An identical expression stretched Batman's eyes wide before they narrowed into his standard expression. Determined, Nightwing tried to get up by himself, but Batman simply reached down and brought him to his feet before Nightwing could wave him away.

"Where _were you_?" Batman thundered.

"What'd you mean?" Nightwing shot back, face livid and blood boiling. "Where were _you_? I thought you were in trouble!"

The ill reception had wiped all affectionate thoughts from Nightwing's mind and he was _not_ about to admit that he'd been worried about Batman and had run, panicked, etc. At least, not out loud.

Batman's eyes narrowed even more, his pride preventing him from recognizing the subtle meaning behind Nightwing's words. Batman didn't _need_ rescuing! He needed respect and the fact that whenever it looked like he was in trouble, he could handle it himself because he was BATMAN! Of course, the tense moment also prevented Batman from realizing that he had been treating Nightwing that way anyway.

"I don't need saving," Batman growled, seeming to tower over an insolent Nightwing. " _You_ do!"

Nightwing's indignation flared. Sometimes, it seemed as if _he_ was the one who had any sense.

"Do I look vulnerable?!"

Now, both Batman and Nightwing were staring each other down. Batman, of course, didn't have time to realize that Nightwing was as tall as he was; Nightwing, of course, didn't have time to notice that hye'd been making so much noise, criminals and black-market people were peeking out the windows above in the buildings around them.

"Then how'd you get that cut on your face?" Batman demanded.

For a moment, Nightwing was puzzled. Then the memory of Nightwing scratching his face as he ran through the alleys—wanting to rescue Batman and he didn't even appreciate it!—brought a horrific conversation to his mind where Batman would've told him about how _professional_ crime fighters don't trip and cut their face up.

"I don't KNOW!" Nightwing exploded, sudden tears threatening to surface in his eyes. "Just leave me ALONE!"

Nightwing turned and fled, furious at Batman for making him cry, and furious at himself by letting himself cry.

Nightwing didn't cry.

He ran down the alleys, Batman's yells fading behind him, and saw Card standing patiently there.

"Well?" Card said, staring unnervingly at Nightwing. "Are we going to talk? Come on!"

Too angry, confused, and hurt to care, Nigthwing took off after Card.

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Furious didn't describe Batman. Batman was more like steam coming out of his ears and fire out of his mouth. He was running after Nightwing for the second time that day, and the moon above seemed to only be mocking him. Batman never thought that he'd leave chasing criminals to chasing Nightwing for a petty fight that Nightwing himself had started by—

Batman skidded to a halt, staring. Nightwing was running after the man who had attacked Batman. _Stupid!_ Batman thought. Even if Nightwing was really chasing the man, it wasn't wise to handle an all-out evil criminal like that alone, especially at 19. And Batman, after remembering how Nightwing had referred to his mysterious "friend" 2 hours ago, seriously doubted that Nightwing knew the true nature of that man he called "friend."

Anxiety shot Batman forward, and when he rounded the corner, the man was leading Nightwing into a steel warehouse building that Batman had never noticed before.

"No! Nightwing!" Batman put on a spurt of speed, ran forward.

The man, coming in after Nightwing, gave Batman one sly smile, pale eyes glittering.

And slammed the door shut.

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Nightwing sighed heavily inside, taking in the spare equipment in what appeared to be a vast storage area.

"Now what?"

Nightwing turned around, and there was a blur in front of him before his world turned white and he fell to the floor, pain exploding through his face. Groaning and half-blinded, Nightwing tried to get up ut a foot slammed down on his back, winding him and shooting another lance of pain through his body.

"I've waited a long time for this moment," Card said softly, cold malice curling in his voice, which barely penetrated through the painful haze in Nightwing's mind. Nightwing arched his back trying to get up, but Card's boot dug deeper, leaving Nightwing moaning and more than helpless. What did Batman say? Always be prepared!

"After hearing that the _heroes_ of Gotham City are near to unbeatable, I thought, Why not?" Card continued, his voice the perfect tone of cruel wonder. "Why not face these fools on and take Gotham City for yourself, just to prove that they are weak and _I_ am invincible."

Card leaned closer, his boot digging deeper into Nightwing's back and his voice laced with aggressive menace. "And you _dad_ is next."

Nightwing twisted, ignoring the sharp shoot of pain through his spine, and swept one leg under Card. Card fell, his flailing foot clipping Nightwing on the head and bringing him back down. Card tried to grab Nightwing into a chokehold, but Nightwing slipped free and punched Card in the solar plexus. As Card doubled over, Nightwing punched Card in the nose, then followed up with a spinning crescent kick that nearly topped Card over. Card stumbled, then threw a knife at Nightwing, who dodged behind a pile of wooden creates towering towards the high ceiling Nightwing peeked back out, and Card, who'd snuck up behind him, kicked Nightwing then gave him a powerful blow to the temple.

Nightwing fell, groaning.

Card stood over him, the bloody mess on his face making him look more than maniacal, and raised a gun.

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Batman dove through the window, the crack of glass resounding all around in a 1 mile radius. Spinning shards settled around Batman as he tackled Card, and both of them went down. Card shot out wildly before Batman wrenched the gun out of his grasp. Batman punched the lights out of Card before Nightwing stumbled over, clutching his head.

"Batman. Batman!"

"I'm busy," Batman growled, looking up reluctantly.

Nightwing rolled his eyes. "You can beat him up later. Let's just put him in jail for now; it's fine. Plus, I want to beat him up, too, and the way you're going, there won't be any left for me."

Batman stood up. There was a silence.

"Are you okay?" Batman finally asked gruffly.

Nightwing winced. "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked u and surrendered a tiny smile. "Thanks for coming to help me."

Batman hesitated, then smiled back. He came over and clapped Nightwing on the shoulder.

"Well, that's what family's for," Batman pointed out. Then his expression turned quizzical. "Right?"

Nightwing laughed. "Yeah. Right."

 _End of Part 1_

 **A/N: Hope you liked it! Part 2's coming, and so's part 3. Just hang in there. Review, please!**


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